Making Up For It

Terry swore he might just puke. Right here and now.

You see, he had been waiting for a good ten minutes, dread slowly inching down his spine as the seconds ticked by. He scuffed his trainers against the Persian rug, awakening dust clouds, and shoved his hands into his back pockets.

Where is he?

Feeling foolish and used, Terry licked at his lips (he'd stolen the lip-gloss and didn't plan to give it back) and straightened up. He'd wait...he checked his watch...five more minutes, then he would be gone and he would forget about sodding Anthony Goldstein and he would find some other bloke.

Yep.

Another bloke.

That he wasn't in love with.

That probably couldn't give a decent hand-job.

And didn't have stunning, deep blue-green eyes.

"I'm gonna make myself cry," he muttered miserably, his voice surprisingly loud in the Charms classroom. He snapped his jaw shut almost immediately, irrationally afraid someone would come in and reprimand him for...

...standing around... in a classroom... by himself.

Terry kicked the desk next to him.

It was 8:12 when he considered his book-bag over on the desk near the door.

It was 8:14 when he walked over to his bag and slung it over his shoulder, wrenching the door open angrily only to run promptly into a solid chest (clad in achingly soft material).

"Fucking shit!" he yelled, and a pair of hands seized his mouth and backed him into the room again. Hearing the slam of the door and the accompanying wards go up, Terry blinked and looked up into a pair of stunning, deep blue-green eyes.

"Evening, Terr," the older boy smiled down at him, resting his hands on Terry's shoulders.

"Goldstein," Terry answered coldly, shrugging out of the other's embrace and heading toward the door.

"Hey, wait!" Terry heard, and then he was spun around and pinned against the door. Anthony looked panicked and smirky at the same time, which just pissed Terry off all the more. "Why are you leaving? I just got here," he murmured.

"Yeah? Well, I was here bloody fifteen minutes ago at your request. So, I think I'll be going. I have studying to do." Terry tried to push him away, but the Head Boy was known for being ridiculously strong as well as stubborn.

Anthony squeezed Terry's shoulders and stepped into his personal space, his features slipping into a much more appropriately worried frown. "I'm so sorry, Terr. Professor McGonagall held me up. I would've been on time, I swear."

Relief flooded through Terry, making his shoulders slump a little, but his face remained in pout-mode. He harrumphed as if he barely believed that story.

Anthony lifted his finger and traced Terry's lips, smiling slightly. "Were you afraid I'd stood you up?" he asked.

"No."

"That I was off with another bloke?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, Terr. And you got all gussied up for me," he whispered, tapping Terry's bottom lip with the same, distracting finger. "However can I make it up to you?"

Terry's eyes snapped to his, slipping the other's finger between his lips and laving it lightly, then taking it fully into his mouth and dragging it out again, nipping the tip as he withdrew. Anthony's eyes hardened, and Terry saw beautiful, white teeth come out to bite down on an equally beautiful bottom lip.

Merlin, I could come right now, Terry thought fleetingly.

Anthony stepped ever closer and leaned into Terry, removing his hand and trailing his fingers down an arm to take the younger boy's hands in his. Their lips hovered a breath away, and Terry could hardly breath. "May I make it up to you, Terr?" he said huskily.

Terry's eyes fluttered closed in acquiescence and waited for those lovely lips.

Nothing.

His eyes shot open when he felt hands at his belt, and he felt slightly disoriented to see Anthony kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his trousers quickly and shoving them (the ones Anthony'd Transfigured for him) down to his feet.

How the hell did he get down there?

But, most intelligent thought left him when the Head Boy shucked off his brown sweater, lightly muttering something like, "Mustn't ruin the cashmere!"

So now Terry leaned against the door in nothing but his button down and boxer-briefs, and there was Anthony, kneeling before him in nothing but his own, tight denims that hugged his arse so beautifully Terry could have cried. But, not really.

"You ready, Terr? You aching for me, already?" Anthony growled, placing his big hands over Terry's hipbones and hooking his fingers over the waistband of the younger boy's pants.

Terry whimpered and frantically unbuttoned his dress-shirt.

"I'll take that as a yes," Anthony murmured, smirking devilishly, and slowly peeled the cotton material down Terry's tense thighs, dropping them to the floor when the boy's stiff prick bobbed up. Anthony hummed appreciatively and slid the tip of his tongue up the underside of Terry's cock, causing his knees to nearly buckle. "You," Anthony breathed, "have a pretty big, lovely cock for a boy your size." With that he grasped the base of said cock with his left hand and slipped the head into his mouth, sucking hard and flicking his tongue over the sensitive underside.

"Ohh, Anthon...fuck! Oh, god," Terry yelped, scrambling to put his hands somewhere where they could find purchase, somewhere where he could find a way not to fall down. "Unh!" he whined, looking down as Anthony took more of him in his mouth. He watched, breathing hard as the older boy's eyes flickered closed and his hand came to rest on Terry's hipbone, preventing him from thrusting.

Anthony breathed hard through his nose as he took even more in, sucking him ruthlessly when Terry gasped and cried out once more.

"Anthony," Terry breathed heavily, finally fisting his hand, tight, into the boy's wavy, honey-blond hair. He felt as well as heard an answering moan around his cock, sending a jolt up his spine and causing his knees to weaken once more. "Unh!"

He was slammed up against the door with the same strong, left hand and wondered briefly where the other one was. It was then that he realized Anthony was thrusting his hips in time with his mouth, and then it clicked, achingly, fantastically, that the older boy was...ahem...multitasking. Seemingly in answer to Terry's revelation, Anthony moaned loudly again and took him all the way into his mouth, his nose bobbing against Terry's dark thatch of hair. Terry could feel his head bump the back of Anthony's throat and frantically shoved his other hand into the boy's hair to join the other one. He was sure Anthony was his only tie to Earth right now. Terry barely registered the tensing of Anthony's muscled back as the Head Boy came on the floor below and set to his final task with a vengeance.

"Ah! Oh, Christ!" Terry murmured, then screamed when Anthony sucked. Hard. He whimpered and opened his eyes, sparing a glance downward, only to see a pair of piercing, blue-green eyes looking intently up at him, the accompanying mouth tight around the base of his prick. "Oh, god! Anthony?" he whimpered girlishly. "I'm gonna...unh... I think..." he gasped. With that Anthony took his left hand and snaked it around to squeeze his bollocks. "Unh! Anthony, I love you!" he cried and came, it seemed, the hardest he'd ever done before, spewing loads of cum down the other's throat.

He slid dazedly to the floor in a puddle of post-orgasmic bliss and barely felt warm hands redress him and tuck him into the right places. Then, he felt the same beautiful hands scoop him up and deposit him, straddled, on a lap. His forehead came to rest in the crook of another's neck. Someone's arm came to nestle into the hair on the nape of his neck, and another snaked around his waist. He still breathed hard, and his heart beat a tattoo into his chest.

Oh, merlin, he felt...

Suddenly he snapped back to awareness, feeling wetness on his eyelashes and on his cheeks.

"Shh," said Anthony against his temple. Terry took a ragged breath and placed a tentative kiss against Anthony's warm, golden skin. The older boy hummed quietly and cupped his face in his hands. There was a sort of... panic... in Anthony's eyes as Terry looked up into his face, wide-eyed. Finally, Anthony asked, "Did you mean what you said?"

"What did I say?" Terry asked, feeling a fuzzy, niggling sensation in the back of his brain and then shot out of Anthony's arms, scrambling back until his shoulders hit the door and curling in on himself, stricken.

Anthony, I love you!

"Terr?" Anthony prompted, his voice calm if not a little raspy.

"Oh, god!" Terry wheezed. The heels of his hands came to push against his temples as he stared anywhere but into that face. "Oh, god..." he whispered, and tears spilled down his cheeks again. He closed his eyes tightly against the rejection he would surely feel as soon as Anthony opened his mouth.

But instead all he heard was a soft, "Oh, Terry." A hand cupped his cheek lightly. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have..." There was a sigh. "I didn't know."

Terry sniffed disgustingly and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "How the hell would you?" he asked. "We'd barely spoken before yesterday." His eyes still stared fixedly at Anthony's knees.

The same hand came out and grasped Terry's chin, pulling his eyes to the other's. The blue-green was surprisingly emotive...Goldstein was known for his ability to keep cool in a situation, as well as his unnerving ability to give nothing away (a trait that caused some to wonder at the Sorting Hat's choice). "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you," he said quietly. "Even if you didn't... feel that way about me."

Terry's eyes watered. Merlin, what am I? A waterfall?

"You were just... so cute. And obviously gay. And I was strangely attracted to you," Anthony continued. He tentatively leaned in and placed a kiss to the corner of Terry's mouth. "I'm so sorry," he murmured.

Terry sobbed and dove into Anthony's chest, straddling him again and wrapping his arms possessively around Anthony's neck. "No!" When all Anthony did was give a startled grunt, his hands splayed across the small of his back, Terry elaborated. "You can't be sorry! And you can't just stop and leave me here! Because if you stop... I'll..." He hiccoughed. "I can't be... close to you..." Terry trailed off.

Anthony pressed his lips into Terry's temple again. "Who said I'd just off and leave you?" he muttered.

"Wha?" Terry mumbled, finally distancing his face from Anthony's so he could look into his face properly.

Anthony's small smile slid quickly into a smirk. "It seems I have much more to make up to you than a bout of tardiness, Terry. Do you have anything in mind?"

Terry looked into those deep, blue-green eyes. "Can I stay with you, tonight?"

Anthony looked mildly shocked.

"Just sleeping, mind. I'm not really ready for that sort of thing..."

Anthony pondered for a moment, then smiled lopsidedly, softly nudging Terry off of his lap and standing up. He Summoned his sweater and put it on hastily, then extended his hand to Terry, lifting him up to stand.

They shared a slow, languorous, mind-blowing kiss in the doorway to the Head Boy's chambers, but it was nothing compared to the bliss of Anthony's bed as the older boy cradled him from behind, the two sliding into peaceful sleep.